


soft pretzels

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dates, Fluff, Food, Intruloceit, M/M, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Multi, Remus typical stuff, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Remus Sanders, the others are mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 04:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20790551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Remus takes his boyfriends to the imagination.





	soft pretzels

"Oh, come _on_," Remus urges, flapping fluffy, glittery sleeves in the general direction of Logan and Deceit, standing in the middle of his cluttered, chaotic room. Deceit arches one eyebrow, snake eye glittering, but Remus remains undeterred.

"We are, Remus," Logan answers, quickly polishing his glasses on his tie. "But you haven't told us where we're going. You just yanked us both into your room and said, and I quote, 'get in bitches, we're going dating.'"

"The imagination, of course!" Remus answers happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "My side, of course, not my boring brother's side. It's gonna be _great_!" 

"That depends entirely on _where_," Deceit murmurs, dubious. Remus pretends to ignore him as he ushers them through the door in his room that leads to _his_ side of the imagination. Unlike Roman's, his door is rusted silver, with an ominous, jagged crack down the middle and a broken padlock. It doesn't need it in any way, Remus just adores the aesthetic. (Deceit and Logan persuaded him to remove the splotches of blood stains, and he still misses them.)

"Here we go!" He sing-songs, skipping down the path that leads toward the jagged outline of his castle in the distance. "I made a picnic! A real picnic, with real food, not deodorant sticks and gasoline!"

"Our stomachs thank you, Remus," Deceit says dryly.

"A picnic sounds delightful," Logan says. "Thank you, Remus." Remus beams, leading them on an off-shoot of the path, through crooked brambles and low-hanging clouds, until they reach the top of a bluff, where he's set out a star-speckled picnic blanket, weighted down by rocks and an enormous picnic basket in the middle. The cliff looks out over his domain, a chaotic scene indeed. Deceit looks over it in quiet approval, until Logan tugs on his ungloved hand, encouraging him to sit down.

"Patton helped me make soft pretzels," Remus says shyly. "I thought you'd like them, since you don't like sweet stuff, Deceit. And I have Crofters, of course, and toast that's supposed to stay nice instead of gross and soggy, like a waterlogged dead mermaid, and-"

"Breathe, Remus," Deceit says, grasping Remus's wrist with gentle fingers. His thumb brushes Remus's pulse point and Remus's heart flutters in his chest like a death's head moth.

"Sorry," he says. "I just- I want this to be perfect."

"And it is," Logan says gently. "Thank you. I love it already, Remus. No Crofters required, although it is a pleasant bonus. But I only _need_ the two of you."

"Logan is right," Deceit murmurs. "It's already perfect, Remus. I haven't been on a picnic in- I don't know how long it has been."

"Virgil said he and Roman go on picnics sometimes," Remus says, popping up to his feet again. "But his must be so dull." He makes a face in the direction of his brother's domain. "They're over there, they have to be."

"And yours is here," Deceit says. "Come on, Remus." He pats the blanket next to him, coaxing. Remus plops down cross-legged, his mood shifting again.

"I made the sandwiches butt-shaped," he says, cackling. Logan and Deceit exchange an amused look.

"I would expect nothing less," Logan says.


End file.
